


Sentiment, Part 3

by Stargirl4Ever



Series: Sentiment, A Winter Soldier Reader Insert Story [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Captain America: The Winter Soldier, F/M, Last Installment in this series, Reader-Insert, Sentimental, The Winter Soldier being confused, Violence, sort of canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 12:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3446996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stargirl4Ever/pseuds/Stargirl4Ever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was it: you were going to die by the hands of that evil old guy. But only if the Winter Soldier lets him do it, and from past experience, you're not sure if he'll save you. However, you have an unusual connection regarding the Winter Solder; a connection that just might stir his frozen heart enough to help you escape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I found this relatively difficult to write, but I hope it came out okay! Thank you so much for reading this, and I'd love to hear what you have to say about it! 
> 
> I highly recommend listening to the song "I'm Getting Sentimental Over You", by Tommy Dorsey. It doesn't match the overall mood of the story, but it'll make sense in the end. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cKQc-cbAvdQ
> 
> The website wouldn't let me use the function to link when I posted, but this story is inspired by the fic, "Spitting image", by surpremethunder. Many kudos to you, supremethunder! Here's the link to their fic, I highly recommend reading it:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/2554184

You groaned, not feeling your body at all.

Maybe you were dead? No, old-guy wanted some “explaining” from you. This you told yourself, seriously hoping you weren’t actually dead.

You struggled to open your eyes, the heaviness over your entire body reminding you of the frightening stories of sleep paralysis. None of your limbs could move, but the coldness in your body was slowly ebbing away.

When your eyelids opened, you saw a circle of blinding lights above you, and you knew they were medical-issued. Hospital operating lights. There were dark spots in your vision from the light exposure.

Sleep paralysis would be a much better thing, you realized when you reminded yourself of where you were. You couldn’t hear anything, figuring that temporary deafness was an after effect.

Despite the disoriented state you were in, there would be no panicking from you. You wouldn’t let them have the satisfaction of that, you decided.

You could wiggle your fingers and toes, and the nerves in your body prickled back to life, revealing the dull pain in your left arm. You remembered The Winter Soldier landing on your arm, strangely holding you to his feverishly warm body.

You turned your head to the side, wanting to look around the room. The buzzing of your blood moving in your head brought your awareness to your too-fast beating heart. Way too fast.

Your view of the room was blurry, and blocked by some of the temporary photobleached spots in your eyes. You could see whiteness everywhere, a few people dressed in white moving about the room. You looked down to your right, and saw the silver of a tray. Your eyes focused.

A row of sharp, glinting medical tools. The scary kind with hooks and serrated edges, curved blades and needles, and forceps...

_Oh God, forceps..._

Hearing voices of the people in the room and feeling most of your body now, you tried to move up. All you accomplished was jerking your torso up and feeling the tug of restraints. That, and the sudden hot, flashing pain of your broken arm being yanked against buckled cuffs. You really should have thought of the restraints first...

You let out a clipped yell because of your arm, the people in the room looking to you before resuming their work. You looked to see them preparing some sort of IV. Were they going to operate on you?

You tested your range of head motion, hearing the buzzing yet again. You learned that the IV wasn’t for you, it was for The Winter Soldier, who was in some sort of medical chair in the far corner of the large room. Unlike you, he wasn’t restrained.

You followed the medical woman’s movements as she inserted the IV into The Winter Soldier’s forearm. His blank stare and unmoving coldness likened it to plugging in a robot.

Someone stepped in front of your eyes, cutting your line of vision. The person in front of you was wearing a grey business suit, and you forced your eyes to look at his face, knowing it was the older-looking man.

“It’s not exactly a secret who you’re working for.” He said conversationally, his eyes crinkling behind his tortoiseshell glasses.

“It’s the damn logo, isn’t it?” You managed to say with difficulty, forcing a smile at the joke about your uniform. It was painful to speak because your throat was so dry. How long had you been out for?

“One might think so, but I know because Fury sent you. I happen to work with him, just a few floors above his office actually. It’s really me who’s going to be doing the explaining.” He said.

You were confused for a few moments. Fury was H.Y.D.R.A.? No, he’d asked for the footage of The Winter Soldier and this old guy, so this old guy was S.H.I.E.L.D. as well as H.Y.D.R.A.? Was Agent Romanov in on it?

“Fury only sent you because you're  _expendable_. You’re not an agent. S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t know you’re here, only Nick Fury. And myself of course.” He said, picking up a scalpel from the tray next to him. You stayed silent, and the old guy continued, though your breathing was starting to quicken in panic.

“He didn’t send you for data from the CPU. He sent you to get close to our guy over here,” He said, walking towards the still motionless Winter Soldier. “And see how close you could get before he snapped. More intel against me, more evidence. And only one, unimportant, nobody, freelance whistleblower to be lost.”

The old guy had moved back to your side, waving the scalpel as he talked, accentuating the words. You didn’t see it, but The Winter Soldier’s focused eyes were following the motions of the blade in Pierce’s hand, his eyebrows furrowing.

He spoke again, “I’m Alexander Pierce, by the way.” When he said his name, he used razored scalpel to deeply slice through your upper arm, leaving a two-inch cut in the fabric of your uniform.

You gasped, and there was a short delay in the swift cut you had received and the biting pain that followed after. Your body jerked against the restraints, and you let out a short cry. You cut the scream off once again with a swift bite to your tongue, distracting you effectively from the pain in both your upper arm and your broken one.

“Hm, didn’t sound like it hurt enough. Maybe it’s the sedative. It only lasts for a few minutes on the Asset, but it lasted for a full half-hour on you.” Pierce said in a cruelly nonchalant tone, reaching for the tool that he felt could help elicit a more successful pain.

You resisted groaning when you saw the metal forceps in his hand. Anything but that.

_Anything but that._

_Anything but that._

_Anything but that._

Your mind frantically repeated the phrase, finding some sort comfort in it as one might find in a mantra. It was almost like a prayer, but it wasn’t going to work and you prepped for the pain as best as you could. When it did come, it still took you by surprise.

Pierce jabbed the forceps into the bleeding wound, twisting them into your flesh without finesse. You _really_ screamed this time, the pain making your vision blur. You were sure you stopped screaming, but you heard it continue.

Pierce turned around, and you realized that it wasn’t your screams, it was the medical woman, clawing at the IV that The Winter Soldier had stuck into her eye. The rest of the medical team fled the room, and the guards moved towards him.

The Winter Soldier incapacitated a few of them with ease, and began moving with quick, deliberate steps towards you and Pierce. However, The Winter Soldiers eyes were only on you, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly panicked by his intense stare.

Pierce screamed at one of the remaining guards, calling to help him escape, _then_ sedate the Asset. With Pierce and the guards out of the room, it was just you and The Winter Soldier.

He shoved the tray away from your side, it clattering against the floor. He quickly broke the straps on your legs and arms instead of unbuckling them, grabbing your not-broken wrist and dragging you off the operating table. You had no choice but to trust him.

You tried to stand up, but your legs were still recovering from the sedative, causing them to buckle beneath you. The Winter Soldier’s hold on your wrist hurt against your weight, and you had to grip the operating table for support, sending more pain through the broken bone.

Without a word, he quickly picked you up and set you back on the table before running to a cabinet nearby and pulling out a roll of bandages. He went back to you and picked you up with ease, an arm under your knees and one under upper back. You held the back of his neck with your also-injured right arm, much to your suffering.

 _Bridal style_ , you thought with some contempt, feeling the heat of his skin through your clothes.

He moved out quickly, kicking the door open with a _bang_. You suddenly wondered if they had removed the gadgets in _all_ of your pockets. You stuck the hand of your free broken arm down the front of your uniform, into your bra, unzipping the small pocket and pulling something out.

It was a tiny gadget, one you’d completely forgotten about. A tiny gadget that could shut down the power source of a place for 10 seconds.

 _Why the absolute fucking holy hell did I not think of this before?_  You mentally beat yourself up with a few more strains of curses, pressing the button. Maybe it was because if you shut the power off, you wouldn’t have been able to collect data from the CPU? It didn’t really matter anymore.

You really hoped The Winter Soldier was superhuman enough to see in the dark.

As you and The Winter Soldier moved quietly through the hall, the sirens began to go off again, only to be shut off with a _whoosh_ , the lights going out at once. He didn’t hesitate or fumble at all, and within a matter of seconds and the sound of an opening and closing door, the lights turned back on.

There was a reddish glow on his face as he set you down, you once again able to support your weight by yourself. He was breathing heavily, from adrenaline, not physical exertion. You were in a similar state, grateful for it because it canceled the pain out to some degree.

You glanced around, taking in your surroundings. You were in some sort of small janitorial closet, lit by a single, dark red light. There was no lock on the door, and it opened outward, making your hiding place only a temporary one.

The Winter Soldier’s expression changed, showing uncertainty and something akin to horror. You remained still, once again trapped by him and no way out should something happen.

“What’s your name?” You whispered. ‘The Winter Soldier’ was a mouthful for you to say in your head.

His eyes darted from the the ground to your face, his mouth opening a bit and his shoulders moving with every breath. Your blood was dark on his well-built chest, from his pectorals to his left shoulder.

It didn't seem like he knew his name. He looked at you, and his eyes widened in what appeared to be shock.

“ _Linda Mae_?” He whispered hoarsely, tilting his head slightly at you, the horrified, confused looked still on his face.

You were taken aback, your eyes widening. “What?” You whispered back. That definitely wasn’t his name, that was...

_Linda Mae was the name of your grandmother._

The Winter Soldier swallowed. “You’re... You look like...”

“ _Linda Mae was my grandmother’s name._ ” You said, your voice very quiet now. You took in a ragged breath.

His breathing quickened. He remembered something... Just not much... It didn’t make any sense to him. He didn’t know what it meant.

_A chaste kiss here....?_

_A not so chaste one there....?_

_Angry tears, slammed door... Another pretty woman?_

These fragmented memories spilled through his mind, feeling slightly out of his grasp. His own name was nowhere to be found.

He didn’t know it very well, but he’d dated your grandmother in 1936. And cheated on her. He’d been twenty, Linda Mae seventeen.

He looked at your familiar features, but you weren’t Linda Mae. He grabbed your shoulders, not squeezing this time, but you cried out in pain anyway. He pulled the hand back from your wound, looking at the blood. He wanted to punch the wall, to kick the rack of cleaning chemicals behind him, but didn’t, not wanting to give away your position.

It was starting to feel familiar, being pinned by The Winter Soldier, whatever his actual name was. You tilted your head back, sighing audibly and squeezing your eyes shut.

He pulled the bandage roll from his pocket and none-too-gently wrapped your bleeding arm. The blood immediately began soaking through the tightly bound layers of gauze, but it was enough to stop the bleeding shortly after.

Things fell into place, recalling his previous actions towards you, the not killing you, the _closeness_ , the kiss, holding you tightly, not killing you again, being his ‘type’. He’d known your grandmother. Had been _close_ with her too. You reminded him of her, you resembled your grandmother very closely. He didn’t look a day over thirty, so how on Earth was that possible?

Considering how the way things had worked out recently, the things you’d seen, you realized that it wouldn’t be _impossible_.

Your grandmother was dead, but you didn’t dare tell him. You felt that it would serve you no good at all, might even be dangerous for you.

You bit your lip, looking at the door hearing a slamming sound in the distance. Of all the things that could have happened in your life, this wasn’t remotely close to something you’d even dream up. The Winter Soldier’s breath caught as he looked at your lips.

* * *

_“Don’t do that.” Bucky said quietly, smirking and leaning his head back a bit, his hands were in his pockets. It was dark, the only light being from a dim streetlamp._

_Linda Mae batted her eyelashes, a coy look flashing across her sweet face. “Do what?” She bit her lip again._

_“You don’t know what it does to me.” Bucky said, smiling and moving his hands to her hips, pulling her close to him. His hand slipped down further, raising the hem of her skirt and trailing his fingers up her stocking-covered thigh._

_“Stop...” She giggled, playfully swatting his hand away. “Pa will see you, remember what happened last time when he caught us being familiar?”_

_Bucky laughed softly and kissed her hard on the lips, not caring if badly aimed bullets from her father’s shotgun would follow shortly._

* * *

“Don’t do that.” The Winter Soldier said to you. You looked at him, wondering what you’d done, not wanting to irk him in any way.

He looked ready to say something else, but paused, turning his head to the door. You heard nothing, but you didn’t have superhuman hearing like he probably did. You thought back to the first time that you'd met him, and you wondered if he had heard you when Pierce's meeting had been going on.

“You have to leave. Now.” He said, straightening up suddenly. Before you could question him, he opened the door, dragging you into the hall. The sound of many advancing footsteps allowed you to prepare yourself for action.

There was suddenly a troop soldiers advancing from around the corner, and you hesitated, looking at The Winter Soldier’s handsome face for a few more seconds. He looked back at yours as well, his dark eyes studying you quickly. He suddenly looked angry and more confused.

He shoved you away before running towards the group of soldiers with ferocity, snapping the closest man’s neck.

Wasting no more time, you ran as fast as you possibly could down the hall. Your mind went to the floorplan you had studied, and figured out where the nearest exit was.

It was easier to get out of the facility than you thought it would be, the guards busy subduing The Winter Soldier. You relied on stealth rather than speed to escape, and only running again when you were a safe distance away from the village.

You stopped to look up at the still starry sky, evaluating your sense of direction and turning to face north to get back to the train station. You worried that Natasha had been in on Nick Fury’s plan, but she was the only person who could possibly help you out in this situation.

You jogged at an even pace for what seemed like a long while before you saw the floodlight of the small building and the Humvee. Agent Romanov hadn’t been waiting for you back near the base. This gave you a feeling of dread.

Without knocking, you opened the door, closing it tight and turning around, shutting your eyes and breathing heavily.

Natasha looked surprised when she saw you. She looked at your incredibly disheveled and bloody state. It was clear that she hadn’t expected to see you back.

You spoke before she could. “ _Please_... Natasha, I’m begging you.” You licked your dry lips. “ _Help me._ ”

Natasha paused, being reminded of herself in looking at you. She’d been in your situation before, and she wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for the help of others, much to her chagrin.

“Get the uniform off.” Natasha said quickly, opening your duffel bag and tossing your more inconspicuous clothes.

You did, trying to hide the break in your wrist. Natasha saw right through it though, and she grabbed first aid supplies, injectable pain killer, and a syringe.

It didn’t take long before she and you were driving over the train tracks and farther north in the Humvee. There was an inconspicuous building hidden in a thicket of trees, and it looked almost abandoned.

It was a base, an operations center. Not S.H.I.E.L.D., but a long-dead organization that Natasha had worked for at some point in her career, she explained.

You got into the co-pilot’s chair in the small aircraft, looking over the controls. It looked simple enough, and you knew basic flight skills, though Natasha said she’d be doing all the flying that night.

“Do you have access to a secret base outside every _other_ secret base?” You said jokingly, hearing the fusion engines of the craft hum to life.

“You’d be surprised.” she said, pressing a button, making the craft lift off the ground and into the air. She hadn’t yet asked you anything about what had happened in the H.Y.D.R.A. base, and you were happy for it.

You laughed and relaxed a bit. Natasha had upped the dose of the painkiller a bit with your permission, and you were incredibly tired.

“I’m going to take you to Stockholm. I’ve got connections there that owe me a favor.” She said, mentally preparing for identities and whatever she needed to do for you to get you safely back to America and under the radar.

“I’ve always wanted to go Stockholm, for very different reasons though.” You said, your voice slurred a bit. It was mostly the painkillers talking, but you prattled on for a bit about WikiLeaks and whistleblowing, and weirdly attractive men and what not before falling asleep.

Everything went smoothly after that.


	2. Chapter 2

You ran your hand through your hair, a habit in the making. You’d been doing all day since you dyed your hair the previous night. The color suited you, though it was a far-cry from your previous color. The hoodie you wore was nondescript, and you could blend in with the average crowd. It also hid the ugly cast that your wrist was in and the bandage on your upper arm.

You repeated your new name in your head several times, it now having a sort of familiarity to it as though you’d had it your whole life. You _would_ have it your whole life now, considering that you were wanted both by S.H.I.E.L.D. _and_ H.Y.D.R.A., if they weren’t actually the same organization.

_Christine T. Brown._

It had been a few weeks since the _incident_ had happened, as you called it.

You didn’t return to Nick Fury to tell him about Alexander Pierce, considering that Fury had sent you to go die. Natasha assured you that Fury thought that you were dead, killed by The Winter Soldier. Pierce would be on the lookout for you, of course, but you didn't disclose him to Natasha.

You opened the door of the storage unit your family's stuff was in, having successfully convincing the man behind the front desk to turn the cameras off for 10 minutes with the bat of an eyelash, some money, and a few tricks Natasha had taught you.

You looked through your grandma’s personal stuff in a large box marked “ _Teenaged_ ”. Rummaging through her journals written before she had met grandpa, you couldn’t find anything.

You almost gave up, but you noticed a notebook in the bottom the box. The edge of a photograph was sticking out from underneath it, and you prayed to whatever gods that this moment would be perfect and in your favor.

_It was._

The sepia photograph showed your beautiful grandmother linking arms with a smiling man whom you recognized to be The Winter Soldier. Of course with short, slicked back hair and a suit. The man in the photo didn’t just resemble The Winter Soldier, it _was_ him.

You had the sudden strange thought of the fact that this man could have been your grandfather in some parallel universe, and you were oddly grateful that Linda Mae didn’t give birth to your mother till much later in the century.

You flipped the photo over, looking at the neatly penned writing.

_May 12, 1936 - Bucky Barnes and me, ball game_

You repeated the name, feeling some relief in knowing The Winter Soldier’s true name.

In scrawled red ink below that were large words that made you smile in spite of yourself.

_JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES, DAMNED HEARTBREAKER. NEVER FORGET!!!_

You tucked the photo into your hoodie pocket and left, thanking the man at the desk once again.

* * *

 Your mouth was slightly agape as you looked at what the text on the Smithsonian website said:

_“ **A Fallen Comrade**_

_**James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes** _

_When Bucky Barnes first met Steve Rogers on the playgrounds of Brooklyn, little did he know that he was forging a bond that would take him to the battlefields of Europe and beyond._

_Born in 1916, Barnes grew up the oldest child of four. An excellent athlete who also excelled in the classroom, Barnes enlisted in the Army shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor. After winter training at Camp McCoy, Wisconsin, Barnes and the rest of the 107th shipped out to the Italian front. Captured by Hydra troops later that fall, Barnes endured long periods of isolation, deprivation and torture. But his will was strong. In an ironic twist of fate, his prison camp was liberated by none other than his childhood friend, Steve Rogers, now Captain America.”_

The most shocking part was that Bucky Barnes died in _1944_. You didn’t know that researching Bucky Barnes would actually lead to _major_ results.

You pulled out the cell phone Natasha had given you, punching her number for an “emergency, but not too bad of an emergency”. She’d given you different numbers to use for different situations.

“Hey, it’s Christine.” You said, using your fake name.

“I can talk.” Natasha confirmed, letting you know she wasn’t in any sort of situation.

“I need a favor...” You started, hesitating before speaking.

“Anything.” Natasha said. You heard a man yell commands in the background, but you didn’t comment on it.

“You know Captain America, right? Steve Rogers; frozen man?”

A few moments of silence from the other end occurred before Natasha replied. “Yeah, why?”

“It’s The Winter Soldier, Natasha. I need Captain America for this.” You said.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Natasha said seriously, hanging up the phone. Somewhere in the Indian Ocean,  Natasha glanced at Steve leaning against the rail of the ship they were on, _The Lemurian Star_.

You couldn’t just sit back with your life knowing that horrible things were being done to Bucky Barnes, The Winter Soldier. You had to do something about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my story! I know it's a funny place to end, but I imagine that all of the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier occur as they would, just with a little more 'you' in it. I'll probably pick it up again someday. Love you all!


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